Acceptance
by FinessMcGayor
Summary: "Acceptance, becomes sometimes you just have to come to terms with the fact you knocked up your Master that one night you both got insanely drunk." The prophecy of the Chosen One has an extension to it that comes to light to the Sith, telling about the child of the Chosen One and how it could either destroy or bring total peace to the galaxy or some weird magic Force crap like that
1. Chapter 1

**I promise the summary is as bad as it sounds. I swear to you on the Bible, Qur'an, and the Torah. I also swear to you on the Soviet flag. This fic does have Padmé/Anakin only because Anakin takes forever and a day to figure out he has the hots for Obi-Wan. I chose to do friendship for most of the fic because 1. I'm already doing obviously in love Obi-Kin in my other fic and 2. Because Anakin gets too feckin' intense when he's in love (kills his wife because he's trying to save her and breaks Obi-Wan's wrist because he's trying to ask why Obi-Wan doesn't love him) and I want this fic to be lighthearted most of the time.**

* * *

_41 BBY_

"Master," a dark-cloaked figure kneels on one knee before the Sith Lord, bowing its head in its master's commanding presence. "You summoned me."

"You recall the prophecy of the Chosen One, apprentice?"

"Yes, Master."

"And you recall the child of the Chosen One will be the destruction or the unification of all beings in the galaxy, when put into the right hands?"

"Yes, Master."

"I sense a disturbance in the Force, Lord Sidious. We must work to find the Chosen One and influence him to do our bidding."

"Yes, Master. I will do my best."

* * *

_22 BBY_

The whole thing began with Obi-Wan spending all his time in the refresher one day. He and Anakin both assumed it was food poisoning.

But then, of course, they were befuddled by the persisting nausea since it hadn't left after two days. Anakin, after his Master insisted he need not alert the Healers, at least forced some medicine in the older man's system and wouldn't let him off the couch—a bit guiltily after shoving Obi-Wan back onto the sleep couch using his new mechanical hand, which had much more force behind it than Anakin's flesh hand.

Now Obi-Wan grumbles about how he's perfectly fine and doesn't need tea because he's sure Anakin will set the kitchen ablaze once again, but accepts the tea anyway because he knows his Padawan will stuff it down his throat if he doesn't drink it voluntarily. He has to admit the tea is precisely how he takes it, and he is also forced to admit Anakin has the ability to set foot near a kitchen appliance without even making sparks or smoke.

Doesn't mean he's going to let the boy back in the kitchen anytime soon.

* * *

Anakin is happy to take his Master on in the dojo that afternoon—it's a good excuse to distract themselves from their various troubles, at least for a couple hours. Obi-Wan is feeling better so they jump on the opportunity, activating their lightsabers and quickly gathering a crowd on the balcony. The two men ignore the other Knights and Padawans, too focused on their sparring to pay any mind to the admiration they receive.

That is, until Obi-Wan is abruptly down. Everything comes back to Anakin then—the sweat drenching his body, the noise of the Jedi above, the harsh breaths he and Obi-Wan take, and the pain lancing through his head as a result of their training bond.

The dragon in his chest grows cold with dread at the sight of his Master.

* * *

It isn't like Obi-Wan to just _collapse_ out of nowhere. This man manages to say something snarky even when they think they're about to die. This man can get up and fight even after being thrown against several different cliff faces while pushing aside the fact that he has internal bleeding a severe concussion.

If one is Obi-Wan Kenobi, one does not simply _fall down_ after a little sparring.

* * *

Anakin winces when Obi-Wan's mood reaches him, knowing the older man won't be very happy he'd been taken to the Healers by his Padawan. Their relationship had been growing stronger as Obi-Wan backed off about discipline and lecturing, taking a more friendly approach and creating camaraderie between them that had never been there before. But something like this might undo all of that. Obi-Wan has always hated going to the Healers—it's a figure of speech, Anakin knows Jedi don't hate—and Anakin has always hated seeing his Master resist the Healers even when he looks to be at death's door.

"Master," he greets cautiously as the older man strides irritably out into the main hall, hands tucked into his sleeves while he mutters under his breath. The Padawan receives no answer until they reach their quarters, where Obi-Wan promptly tells him to occupy himself. Anakin shrugs as his Master disappears into the refresher, only to glance up from his holopad in confusion when he hears a muffled thumping. His head soon begins to ache through their training bond, and Anakin springs to life enough to go find Obi-Wan banging his head against the wall.

What in the kriff is Obi-Wan _doing_? Last he checked, the man is more calm than an abandoned pond, nothing rippling the surface except a tiny bit of wind. Even then, it doesn't disturb Obi-Wan, only raising his alertness to a slightly higher than usual level.

Considering all of this, the sight of Obi-Wan's head repeatedly striking the wall is rather disturbing, to say the least.

"Master… what in galaxy's name are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Uh… well… I got the part about you hitting your head on the wall, but why?"

"I'm out of pills."

Anakin blinks. Since when does Obi-Wan take pills and what does he take them for and why is he stressing about pills because they're just pills and- "I'm sorry, what? What pills?"

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to face Anakin. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. However, I need the pills very soon or else bad things may happen."

The Djem So Padawan does not like the sound of that at all.

* * *

Obi-Wan makes tea frantically throughout the day, going into deep meditation and trying his best to not have a mini heart attack. He can get through the week without his pills, can't he? He's a Jedi Knight who has trained Anakin Skywalker and defeated a Sith Lord. Surely he can survive five days without pills… right?

He passes out twice more during the rest of the day, waking to Anakin looking unnerved with his face about two inches from his Master's. Does the boy really need a talk about personal space _again_?

And Obi-Wan really wishes he had his pills because the physiology he happens to be cursed with is not something he wants to deal with. Especially not when he's kept this from Anakin for so long. The first and last time he had to go through his physiological cycle was at age sixteen. He'd hit puberty just a year before and his hormones were unruly, difficult to tame alongside the increasing appetite and the need for many hours of sleep.

When his cycle had struck it was a nightmare. Obi-Wan had been frightened nearly out of his mind and no meditation could calm his frayed nerves for weeks afterward until Master Che had discovered pills that could keep his body on a tight leash. There was blood leaking from places that should never have been there, had he been a normal human instead of a subspecies. Then there had been the fainting and the headaches. The exhaustion grew far worse than what he came to expect as normal during his teenage years on top of the horrid pain in his abdomen. Obi-Wan hid it from Qui-Gon as long as he could until the nausea set in, and then he could hardly keep anything on his stomach, which forced him into bed where he was barely able to move away. His Master had been… not unsympathetic, but not exactly understanding either.

Obi-Wan might have crawled into a hole and died if Aalto or Bruck Chun ever discovered it. Garen, Bant, and Quinlan only knew because Garen had to hold Obi-Wan up while his friend emptied the contents of his stomach. Garen had been so worried that he told Bant, and of course Quinlan was a bit of a snoop back then and found out Obi-Wan was ill. The Padawan couldn't decide whether he appreciate his friends' coddling or not.

This is why Obi-Wan goes to the Archives and buries himself in reading about random things—dragging Anakin with him and telling his apprentice to wake him up if he should faint once again. Madame Jocasta Nu has known of his… problem for years now, but he'd rather no one else find out.

By clicking the "random search" link, however, Obi-Wan of course stumbles upon Stewjon. Of course. Because only this kind of thing happens to him.

* * *

"Tell me again why you're making a request for the Council to ban the random search link within the Archives, Master?"

"Because it's useless and a waste of space on the screen," Obi-Wan grumbles, expression sour as he paces back and forth in their quarters. "Talk to me about something."

Anakin really wonders if his Master has a bolt loose. "About what?"

"Anything."

"Okay. Uh… Why are you going crazy?"

"Anything but that."

"Hm… do you think I can get a yellow starfighter once I become a Knight?"

"I suppose you could if you specifically asked for a fighter in yellow. Why yellow?"

"Because yellow is my favorite color."

"Ah."

"Master, really, what has you so wound up?"

"Nothing."

"You realize I'm just going to keep asking you about it until you tell me."

"I know," the older man groans and sinks into his chair. He's not about to test fate and ask if the day could get any worse, because he knows it very well could, but Obi-Wan really wishes he had his pills. Anakin's going to be climbing up the walls from insanity after being around Obi-Wan for the next week—he's sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days are a blur of Obi-Wan making an effort to train Anakin despite his frequent fainting and nausea, along with Obi-Wan cursing Stewjon under his breath. His apprentice would be happy for the reprieve from lectures and training if it weren't at a cost to Obi-Wan's health—physically and mentally.

On the day before the master is supposed to receive more pills, Anakin and Obi-Wan shut themselves into their quarters because the latter is positively miserable. He shifts restlessly on his sleep couch, unable to get comfortable. Obi-Wan is exhausted from lack of sleep the past two nights and even Anakin making tea doesn't help him feel better.

"I'm alright, honestly."

"You're not alright, honestly," Anakin retorts, pressing a cool cloth to his Master's forehead.

"Too cold," Obi-Wan mutters, trying to move away.

Anakin stills him, frown deepening. "You may think you're freezing, but your fever has spiked. Now quit moving."

"_You_ don't behave when _you're_ sick."

"Do as I say, not as I do," Anakin replies without missing a beat.

* * *

"So what are these?" The Padawan holds up the small paper bag containing the pills, eyes questioning his Master.

"None of your concern."

"I think it is, now that I've taken care of you because of the lack of your…" He peers at the label. "Something something pills."

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan takes the paper bag. "They take care of a problem with my physiology."

"Are you dying?"

That earns Anakin a sigh and Obi-Wan pinching the bridge of his nose. "Must you always jump to the worst case scenario?" When his apprentice merely shrugs, Obi-Wan sighs again. "No, it's… reproductive."

He can see the gears turning in Anakin's head, but the product of that thinking surprises him. "Are you a transvestite?"

Anakin is confused when Obi-Wan groans in exasperation and simply turns away.

* * *

"So you're not a transvestite. Hm…"

"Anakin, we're eating."

"I know."

"This is not dinner conversation."

"Fine, how was your day?"

"You were with me the whole day."

"Well if you don't want me to be polite, then I'm going back to your thing. Are you a hermaphrodite?"

"_Anakin_!"

* * *

"So you're not a hermaphrodite either. Interesting…"

"Anakin, I'm trying to read. Why aren't you?"

"Well my book is really good, but this is distracting me."

"I taught you years ago how to resist distraction."

"Uh, not when it's something like this, no you didn't."

"You exhaust me."

"Exhaust is my middle name. Oh, what's your middle name? I've never heard yours-"

"_Anakin_…"

* * *

"I've got it!"

"Anakin, go to sleep."

"No, no." Anakin jumps up and flicks on the light, forcing Obi-Wan to throw an arm over his face. That is, until his Padawan yanks it away and leans over him. "You're secretly a woman!"

Anakin—strangely—finds himself lying on his back on the carpet, lights off once more and Obi-Wan curled up under his blanket. "Good _night_, Anakin."

* * *

"Good morning, Master."

"Good morning, Padawan." He looks up when Anakin shrugs on his robe instead of sitting down for breakfast. "Where are you going?"

"Archives. I need to finish up some last minute things for a couple classes and research another thing."

Anakin is gone by the time Obi-Wan blinks and realizes what "other thing" Anakin wants to research, seeing as the boy hates researching things in the Archives with a passion. _Kriff._

* * *

Anakin keys in several things on the computer, sifting through files and data quickly. _Stewjon is known galaxy-wide for having a native human subspecies. _

He checks the time. Obi-Wan will find him soon.

* * *

Obi-Wan races through the halls of the Temple, stamping out his irritation with Anakin and trying to stay calm. _Focus on the Force. Breathe in, concentrate on the exhale, breathe out the emotions of anger._

* * *

_This subspecies contains males who are capable of reproduction. Little is known about the process for the males, though, due to Stewjon's lack of cooperation with any scientific research. The inhabitants of the planet refuse to divulge any information of their own as well. _

Anakin senses his Master enter the Archives and gulps.

_The only suspected male to have set foot off Stewjon is a Jedi named Obi-Wan Kenobi, but the Jedi have denied all accusations and inquiries regarding Kenobi's ancestry._

Obi-Wan appears out of nowhere, tackling Anakin from the side and sending both them and the chair flying. "I told you to leave it alone, Anakin!"

"You have no sense of self preservation! I had to know what was going on!"

"I'm fine!"

"You were sick all of last week! I have the right to know why since I had to take care of you!"

The weight on top of Anakin disappears as Madame Nu yanks Obi-Wan off. "Both of you, out of the Archives this instant. I will not tolerate violence and shouting within these walls."

Thoroughly chastised, they bow and hastily exit the Archives, Anakin fingering his braid. _How much will I have to cut off this time? At this rate, I'll never take the Trials._ "I'm sorry, Master."

"It's alright, Anakin."

* * *

"How much did you find out before I rudely interrupted your 'research'?"

"You're from Stewjon."

Obi-Wan looks away. "Yes," he says tentatively.

"It said the Jedi had denied any claims you were from there."

"With good reason. I would never be able to leave the Temple if it were publicly known."

Anakin mulls over this for a moment. "So you can reproduce?"

"Unfortunately. That's what the pills are for: to keep anything from happening."

"But you don't have se-"

Obi-Wan cuts him off, embarrassed at the mere thought of such activity. "Asexual reproduction is a possibility."

"Why were you so ill?"

"Because my body tried to reset itself to a… natural state, I suppose. Since the medication I take prevents my natural physiology from acting as it normally would, the sudden lack of suppression made my body try to catch up."

"This happened before?"

"Not since I was sixteen."

No wonder Obi-Wan had looked so awful. Almost twenty years of taking those pills had certainly backfired. "Will it happen again?"

"I'm not planning on it. Now did you actually have research for your classes?"

"Technically yes…"

"Go do it."

"Yes, Master."

* * *

Obi-Wan and Anakin, out of nerves, get insanely drunk the night before Anakin is to go through the Trials.

Was it a good idea?

No.

Did it seem like a good idea at the time?

Sort of.

* * *

Anakin wakes to a pounding headache and groans, sitting up slowly and looking around. Obi-Wan is drinking tea in his chair and the blinds over the window are lowered, the room's lights dimmed as well. He crawls over to the coffee table and picks up the glass of ice water left for him, drinking it slowly. "What happened last night?"

"I have no idea. I woke up lying on top of you on your sleep couch," Obi-Wan replies.

"Maybe drunk people like to snuggle?"

"I can't believe we even _got_ drunk. And you have the Trials today."

"Crap," Anakin groans. "I'll never get rid of this hangover before then."

"Never say never."


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh lord, guys, I am so sorry for not responding to the last few reviews and for not updating in a while. Real life is a bitch, yada yada, you know how it is. Then my muse decided to leave, and when she came back she wanted to go off in a completely different direction (good news is, I figured out how to tie my two oneshots with the Skywalker children together with a cohesive story). So yeah. It's been a fun few weeks. Oh, and you don't know how tempted I was to split this up into two tiny chapters just because of the cliff hanger. But I'm a sucker for happy endings, so here you go.**

* * *

Anakin opens one eye when Obi-Wan enters their quarters, watching his Master move around the room before settling on the edge of Anakin's sleep couch. The boy is buried under his blanket and looks rather ill. "I had them postpone your Trials of Knighthood until a later date."

"Thanks, Master. I owe you one."

"I hardly think so. 'Honor your Master, honor your Padawan,'" Obi-Wan quotes. "But you're welcome."

"I'll buy you lunch at Dexter's."

"Well…" Obi-Wan considers. "Alright, you can owe me a little. Here." Obi-Wan holds out a pink cupcake, having it snatched from his hand and gobbled down.

"And thank you for that, Master," Anakin mumbles, closing his eyes again.

* * *

Unfortunately, Anakin's trials of knighthood are forgotten when a battle on Jabiim breaks out. It is the very early stages of the war, not many battles yet, so Obi-Wan and Anakin had yet to be sent out to the front lines, only on side missions. They would never have been prepared for the unholy slaughter even if they had been in the war already.

* * *

Cannon fire nearly deafens Obi-Wan to everything as he drops to the ground once more, balling up and covering his head with his hands as shrapnel and mud flies up around him. _I hope Anakin is alright,_ he thinks, in a daze as rain pours down like needles on his back. Feeling around for his lightsaber, Obi-Wan scrambles to his feet and activates the blue blade just in time to deflect several red bolts aimed right for him. He can hear Cody shouting orders as he shakes his head to clear it, running as much as he can through the ankle deep muck after his battalion of clones.

The clones. Anakin had come up with the idea for all the clones to have nicknames instead of going by their number. There's namely Commander Cody, who had been assigned to him apparently before the battle of Geonosis—something he wasn't aware of until Master Windu had turned Cody and the 212th Attack Battalion over to Obi-Wan after a battle of Skor II. Obi-Wan easily took to Cody, beginning to treat him as a friend rather than a mere clone who sheds his blood for a republic he is hardly aware of.

Then there are the others. Oddball, Barlex, Gearshift, Boil, Waxer, Longshot, Wooley, Slick, Trapper, Chopper, Hardcase, Jesse, Fireball, Dogma, Appo, and so many others—Obi-Wan hasn't had time to memorize all their names. Coric is the medic and has already had to bandage up several of his brothers.

_"General Kenobi, do you copy?" _The comlink attached the armor on his forearm buzzes to life, a static voice coming through that sounds like Cody.

"Copy, Commander," he replies, narrowing his eyes as he looks around, rain washing away any sweat gathering on his body. Obi-Wan pants, in near misery from all the running he's done as the mud squelches and sucks at his boots, determined not to let him simply spring along as he dashes across the battlefield. And the rain, oh, the blasted rain! Relentlessly pouring down day after day, all night long, and drenching everyone to the bone. During the day, they are half-grateful because it cools them during their exertion. But at night, they shiver and huddle in their bunks, trying to get warm for just a few hours, long enough to sink into dreamless rest rather than fight the chills that make their teeth chatter. Then there are the droids. Hundreds of thousands of the stupid things, always marching along and shooting more men down. Anakin hates them and hates that they were unable to take out the droid factories on Geonosis. Obi-Wan is too tired to argue with his apprentice about controlling his anger.

_"Commander Skywalker has reached the target area. Should I patch him through?" _

Anakin's reached the Separatist bunker already? Well, the boy certainly knows how to get down to business these days. "Yes, Commander." While Cody transfers the comm over to Anakin, Obi-Wan continues to run—though it's more like limping at this point since the adrenaline has worn off and his knee is on fire from the blaster wound. "Anakin, do you copy?"

_"Yes, Master. I knew you'd be late." _

That elicits an eye roll. "Now we're even. Are you setting the charges yet?" Even now, because Anakin had been late yesterday to reach the rendezvous point and Obi-Wan had to exhaust his use of the Force to crush several droids. It had been risky—exhaust himself and Anakin might not arrive at all, or keep fighting and hope his men weren't all shot down. He'd chosen the former.

Anakin sounds exasperated, as though he can't believe Obi-Wan would really ask such a thing. _"Of course. Really, Obi-Wan, you have too little faith in me." _

Obi-Wan almost laughs. Right. Too _little_ faith in Anakin. "Oh, you are very, very wrong about that, Padawan. I have entirely too _much_ faith in you. I swear, you're going to be the death of me."

There's a small laugh to be heard on the other end. _"That's an ass-backwards way of complimenting someone."_

"You know me, my young apprentice." Looking up again, Obi-Wan is washed in an enormous amount of relief to see the hill. It's nothing special, just a grassy mound, but it's a sign of temporary victory. It's a sign that Obi-Wan can soon crawl back into his bunk after swallowing a food capsule for some much needed rest. Because on the other side of that hill is Anakin. And that means the galaxy to Obi-Wan. "I'm nearly there. Be sure to take cover this time rather than watch the explosions."

_"Sure, sure."_ Obi-Wan can see in his mind Anakin's hand waving him off. _"See you in a bit. Remember, we have a sabacc game with Cody and some of the others tonight."_

That's right, they did have that. He feels a little guilty, but the thought of using his injured knee as an excuse to drag himself into bed is too good to pass up.

Obi-Wan never needs to use that excuse. He never makes it to his bed that night. He doesn't even make it to the top of that stupid hill.

* * *

Anakin weakly pulls himself out of bed, blinking against the sunlight filtering through the window. He glances over at Obi-Wan, nearly crying in relief to find him safe and sound, drinking tea on his sleep couch.

He shivers as he gazes at Obi-Wan's form, seeing the slight tremble of his hands when he lifts the tea mug to his lips. The cuts on his face are mostly healed, only pink lines now. There's a pillow under his left leg to pad where Ventress had torn the back of Obi-Wan's knee so he wouldn't be able to run and escape. There are still fading bruises all over his body, but those don't matter. What counts is that Obi-Wan, his master, is alive and safe in the Temple.

"Master," he says quietly in greeting.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan replies hoarsely, coughing and pressing a hand to his chest. Anakin quickly steps up and presses his right hand to Obi-Wan's back, left hand gently gripping Obi-Wan's to steady the shaking hand as the older man takes a drink of his tea. "I'm fine."

Stepping back quickly and taking the empty mug, Anakin strides to the kitchen. He rinses out the tea automatically, mind racing through everything that had happened. _The pack of padawans, who had been formed in hopes that together they would have the strength of a single knight. _

_ It was a complete failure. All of them were dead, corpses either blown apart or rotting on the plains of Jabiim by now. Aubrie Wyn had killed Stratus, the Separatist general, but she's dead now. She shouldn't have died. She shouldn't have even been on the battlefield. She was just a kid, thirteen years old. What was the Council thinking? _

_ The Jabiimi natives hate the Republic and the Jedi now, most of all Anakin. But he had no choice when he was ordered to evacuate. _

_ There had been an ambush and Obi-Wan was captured by Ventress, taken to be tortured on Rattatak. _

_ A battle just happened to take place on the planet three weeks later, otherwise Obi-Wan never would have been rescued. _

_ Obi-Wan's revelation when he had seen Anakin again in the Temple._

No, his master is not fine. He was tortured for weeks by a Sith and is now-

Anakin shuts his eyes and grips the counter, taking a deep breath to calm himself as he reaches up to touch his braid. Then he remembers Master Yoda cut it three weeks ago. His hair has already begun to grow out. Dropping his hand down again, Anakin turns around to face Obi-Wan. How is it even _possible_ for the man to be pregnant?

Except it is perfectly possible. Because Obi-Wan is from Stewjon and it is natural for that human subspecies to reproduce despite being male. Small wonder why Obi-Wan despises being from his home planet so much.

* * *

Anakin recalls plainly as day when Obi-Wan weakly told him the news, carried into the Temple in a medical capsule. The padawan turned knight cringes now at his reaction. He'd stepped back from his oldest friend as though he'd been burned, not seeing Obi-Wan again for days after. The look on his master's face when he brushed him off is permanently etched into his memory. Why had he done that? Why had he acted as though Obi-Wan's feelings didn't matter? Why is he still too selfish to acknowledge his best friend's newest development?

Dressing quickly, uncaring about his appearance anymore, Anakin steps out of the refresher, unsure what to do next. Obi-Wan is standing with most of his weight on one leg, looking as though he's about to pass out. But does he even want to be in the same room as Anakin anymore?

_Screw it. _Anakin steps up and grasps Obi-Wan's arm, noticing the defiance flash in the currently green eyes for a moment before he accepts Anakin's help. Guiding the knight to his customary chair isn't difficult, and neither is handing him his bowl of cereal. Of course the difficult part is initiating conversation. They had become close friends since the start of the war, but in one selfish act, Anakin had flushed that pipeline.

"So… you uh…" Anakin rubs the back of his neck with his left hand, still uncomfortable with the entire idea of a cybernetic arm. He clears his throat as Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at him. "You're… expecting," he finishes lamely.

"Not according to you," Obi-Wan retorts, eyes going back to his breakfast as he picks at it.

He winces. _He's right, though, _the dragon in his mind snarls. "I'm sorry." And then Anakin almost slaps himself. Kriff, that's exactly the _wrong_ thing to say. The phrase means nothing when Anakin says it, and hasn't meant anything for years. "What I mean is, I shouldn't have… treated you so poorly. I apologize for my selfish actions." He looks at the brown carpet beneath his boots, attempting to think of what else to say.

It startles him when Obi-Wan reaches out a hand and inspects Anakin's right arm. "You could start wearing a glove. No one would want to see that," he gestures at the gold and black hand, making Anakin jerk away, eyes wide in disbelief.

"W… what?" He's shocked. Obi-Wan had ignored the fact that Anakin's arm is different from the rest of his body before now, but… had it been an act? He swallows the lump forming in his throat. He's a filthy, disgusting, half-cyborg freak. _Yes, you are,_ the dragon hisses, greedily lapping up Anakin's self-hatred.

It doesn't register Obi-Wan has said anything else until Anakin blinks and asks him to repeat it. "Now you know how I feel."

Well. That's a slap-in-the-face lesson. "… You… I…" Anakin shuts his mouth to keep it from hanging open. "You did that on purpose."

"Would you have realized how to be empathetic to my situation any other way?"

No. He wouldn't have. He almost rolls his eyes. Trust Obi-Wan to psychologically mess with him just to make a point. "I am sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan smiles just a bit. "I know. I forgive you."

Anakin sits in his own chair next to Obi-Wan's, keeping his right arm hidden. Just in case. "When… are you supposed to… you know," Anakin waves his hand at Obi-Wan's stomach. There's no noticeable change to it yet.

"I don't follow."

"When are you supposed to have the kid?"

Obi-Wan chuckles. "I'd forgotten how blunt you could be."

That stings Anakin for a moment. Right. Obi-Wan had made himself forget everything in preparation of never being saved from that hellhole Ventress created just for him. He shakes it off best he can, since it won't do to break down in tears at the thought of losing Obi-Wan again. "So when?"

"I'm not entirely sure. There isn't exactly a wealth of information on pregnancy in men."

"Does Master Che know anything?"

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan strokes his beard thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to think she and the Council are plotting something."

Anakin smirks. "Maybe they're plotting your demise once you have them a Jedi baby."

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "Oh, yes, because that is entirely something they would do. Excellent deducing, Anakin. You could be Sherlock Skywalker if you wanted."

"Well I already have an annoying, short friend to be my assistant. It works out."

It's rare that Obi-Wan makes an obscene gesture to Anakin, but it merely makes the younger man laugh when it happens.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin wakes to the sound of horrendous gagging the next morning as his eyes snap open. He sits up, stretching and looking around the apartment for Obi-Wan. It startles him when the older man isn't asleep, so that must mean…

Wincing when the awful noise reaches his ears once more, Anakin kicks off his blanket and hurries over to the refresher, palming it open. "Master, are you alright?"

Obi-Wan leans back from hanging his head over the toilet, breathing through his mouth and trying desperately not to vomit everywhere. "What does it look like?" He asks faintly, keeping his hair pulled back in his hand just in case.

The Shien knight grabs a cloth and wets it, kneeling beside Obi-Wan and running it over the other knight's face. "Did you eat something bad?"

Obi-Wan racks his brain, going through what he ate yesterday and attempting to swallow around the bile rising in his throat once more. Shaking his head, he slumps over, drawing his knees up to his chest. "I hate my life," he mumbles into the cloth of his pajamas.

Anakin sympathetically—and perhaps empathetically—pats his master's shoulder. "I'll get you some water."

* * *

This continues for three days until Anakin drags Obi-Wan to the Healers—because the Soresu knight would have just started sleeping in the refresher.

"Open your mouth," Bant commands Obi-Wan, the latter sulking as he sits on the examination table, feet dangling rather adorably above the floor and-

Wait, what? Since when does Anakin find Obi-Wan "adorable"? He might need to check into the Mind Healers. Yeesh…

Obligingly, Obi-Wan opens his mouth so Bant can peer down his throat with the small light in her hand. "I'll need to swab your throat to make sure you don't have anything contagious."

Obi-Wan snaps his mouth shut and leans back. "That won't be necessary. I'm sure the nausea will disappear soon."

Bant and Anakin both exchange a glance. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can leave."

"I didn't even need to come here," Obi-Wan argues.

"Master," Anakin tells the man, "I'll buy you lunch at Dex's if you shut the kriff up for the time it takes to swab your throat."

Obi-Wan considers his former padawan—and how strange it is to think of Anakin that way now—before nodding in defeat. Bant orders him to sit on his hands, Anakin pressing a hand firmly down on Obi-Wan's shoulder to keep him from rearing up and pulling away as fast as he is capable. The man can be completely rational at any given time, but it's those that try to heal him who set him off. The older knight nurses a cup of water and his "wounded soul" once Bant finishes that part of the examination. "I don't like it here."

Anakin brushes his former master's long copper hair behind his ear in comfort. "At least Vokara Che is busy.

They can both agree on that, at least.

* * *

"Will you be alright while I'm gone?" Anakin inquires as he watches Obi-Wan stir his tea. The dark liquid swirls in a whirlpool even after the spoon is removed. Obi-Wan waits for it to settle before taking a sip.

"You worry far too much. I sometimes wonder if you have ulcers lining your stomach."

Rolling his eyes as Anakin follows Obi-Wan over to their two chairs, one on each side of the floor lamp so they'd both have light during the evenings. "You're dodging the question."

"I will be perfectly fine. Go do whatever it is you're plotting." Obi-Wan waves him away as he picks up his holopad.

The knight leans against the armrest of Obi-Wan's chair. "You'll comm the Healers if you even _think _something might be wrong?"

"Yes, Anakin," the redhead responds in an attempt to both appease and get Anakin out of the apartment. He blinks when Anakin is gone the next moment, the slide of the door behind him echoing along the Force.

* * *

"Anakin," Padmé greets as he wraps his arms around her. It is an immediate balm on his frayed nerves when he's around the love of his life.

"I've missed you," he replies, exchanging a long kiss. "Every minute I'm apart from you, I long to be with you once more."

Padmé internally winces. Great. So he's on one of those "I'm so desperately in love with you" tangents again. _The next few hours are going to be friggin' fantastic,_ she thinks sarcastically. If Anakin weren't so clingy, Padmé might actually enjoy spending time with her new husband—and marrying him is beginning to be something she regrets since it apparently gives Anakin the delusion he should want to spend every waking moment with her.

She only half-heartedly feels guilty nowadays when she thinks about having tea with Obi-Wan during these times, tuning Anakin out and nodding in the right places. He's a sweet man, he really is, but the neediness is grating on her nerves already. That's why she's friends with Obi-Wan—the man is independent, an introvert, and he never stays for long since they both need their space, no matter how much they enjoy each other's company.

It really is a treat to discuss things with him, now he's gotten over applying his politician-related prejudice to Padmé, and they frequently have tea together.

Of course, Padmé doesn't tell Anakin exactly how _much_ they have tea, since the Jedi knight has a jealousy streak to him that would only cause everything to blow up in her face if she told him how often she and Obi-Wan are around each other. There'd be no convincing Anakin that she and Obi-Wan are just friends. No, Anakin would throw a hissy fit and do something irrational. Such is the reason for saying only every once in a while that she and Obi-Wan had some damn tea because apparently she cannot be with male friends anymore since Anakin is a needy little-

Wait, what? "Obi-Wan?" Padmé asks, focusing back on Anakin.

"He's… sick." Anakin isn't meeting her eyes, which is a clear indication he's lying. Right. He prefers honesty above all else, and he can't lie to save his life. The Jedi really ought to have classes for acting or something.

"Sick?" She decides to go along with it. He'll crack eventually. "Does he have a virus?"

"No… it's… something bigger than that. It'll last a few months at the most, but the Healers can't do anything for him because they don't know much about it. I'm just so worried something is going to go wrong, since it isn't common outside his native planet and-" Anakin breaks off, realizing he's said too much. He looks out from under the hood of his cloak, peering down the alley on his right and the main street on his left for any sign someone had heard.

"I'm sure he'll be alright." Padmé lays a hand on Anakin's arm in comfort. She's positive Obi-Wan is fine—Anakin exaggerates when his former master is concerned. "He's strong."

Anakin eats up her words, nodding a bit numbly. "Yeah… he'll be alright."

* * *

Activating his commlink, Anakin finds he has a message from Obi-Wan. He instantly jumps to the worst conclusion and really wishes he hadn't turned off the commlink earlier.

_"Anakin, it turns out the nausea is normal for… pregnancy."_ Obi-Wan hesitates on the word, unable to fully accept the fact that so many people in the Temple know his condition. _"However, Bant wanted to be a parasite so I'll be enduring having blood drawn for the next hour or so. Master Che demands you either come to bring me back to the apartment or I cannot leave at all." _Anakin can practically see the look Obi-Wan would use had he spoken to his former apprentice in person. _"You had better come get me, young one." _

Fears assuaged, Anakin hurries back to the Temple before the Master of Soresu gets cranky.

* * *

It's only been a week since Anakin found out Obi-Wan's condition when the latter was carried in a medical capsule, and just a day since the bloodwork had been assessed.

Master and former Padawan stand before the Council now, arms tucked into their cloak sleeves as they face Master Yoda and Master Windu.

"Master Eerin and Master Che both claim there is little to be found upon further inspection of the labwork and of Stewjonian physiology."

"And why is there little information on the physiology?" Master Fisto questions.

Bant speaks up from the comprojector in Master Windu's hand. "The Stewjonian natives are very secretive out of self-preservation, since they are ridiculed by most people in the galaxy. The only option I can think of for gathering enough information is if we sent a Jedi knight to the planet."

"I'll go," Anakin volunteers, breaking the contemplating silence the masters had descended into. He ignores the disbelieving and equally frustrated glare Obi-Wan throws him.


	5. Chapter 5

"I knew they were plotting something," Obi-Wan mutters irritably as he tosses another of Anakin's tunics into a suitcase.

"Master, I can pack on my own," Anakin says from his place in the doorway to his closet.

The older man ignores the younger as he gets down on his knees to pull out a pair of pajamas from the dresser drawer. He also finds a Snickers wrapper and gives Anakin a disapproving look. "Throw this away."

Anakin takes the wrapper and ambles over to the kitchen, coming back to find Obi-Wan handling his… underwear. "Uh… Master?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you packing my underwear?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. "Please tell me you haven't taken up the practice of going without."

"No! I just… you're touching it."

"… Point being…?" When Obi-Wan receives no response other than Anakin standing with his mouth wide open, he continues. "I've seen you naked. I hardly think a few pairs of underwear is anything compared to that."

"… I don't know what to say."

Zipping the suitcase shut once it's packed with Anakin's clothes, Obi-Wan stands and slips past him as he moves out of the closet. "Wait on the couch."

Both men seem to have a habit of ignoring each other, as Anakin follows Obi-Wan into the latter's closet. He's surprised to find Obi-Wan digging out his suitcase and packing clothes inside. "Uh… what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"You're coming to Stewjon?" Anakin asks, confused. "I thought you were ashamed of-"

Obi-Wan holds up a hand to silence the boy. "The Council only let you go because they knew I'd be right behind you to ensure there would be delicate diplomacy… or at least a clean-up crew."

Anakin scowls at that. Of course. He should have seen that. "So you're going because you have to."

"It will be the only reason I ever pay a visit to Stewjon." The mere name tastes vile on his tongue, but he elects to keep it from showing on his face. "The arrangements for transport have been made. Let's get this over with."

* * *

Slumping into the copilot seat, Obi-Wan rubs his temples in an effort to ease the building headache. Meditation hadn't helped to calm his nerves, so he left the small bunk in the middle of the ship to join Anakin in the cockpit—though it's really too small to be called a ship.

"Are you alright?" Anakin asks quietly when he glances over at the Jedi knight.

Obi-Wan shrugs noncommittally, sitting up and looking out the viewport. It isn't as though there is anything particularly interesting when gazing out into hyperspace, but he hopes it will help take his mind off the coming arrival on Stewjon.

He's bitter. Stewjon leaves a sour taste in his mouth and makes him feel disgusted every time he even thinks about it. Obi-Wan no longer feels sickened by his own body after years of trying to come to peace with his physiology. Instead he ignores it all together and moves on with his life. There is no point in dwelling.

Yet, now he can no longer live in denial. He is part of a human subspecies that developed on Stewjon as a result of low birthrate. Doesn't seem to have helped as the population reports received from the planet suggest the adaptation hardly increased the birthrate. Men having children along with the women opened Stewjon to all kinds of discrimination. So much that the women began to see men as inferior since the latter's evolution of physiology caused the planet to be shunned.

Now the women rule the planet. The last report before Stewjon stopped participating in Republic matters claimed there were labs where the men were taken, forced to reproduce over and over until their bodies simply gave out.

Obi-Wan chills at the thought, knowing it is likely not a mere rumor considering a Jedi had given the report.

"Master." Anakin's voice breaks him from his reverie, the boy—no, young man's—face full of concern. "Maybe you should go lie down."

"I already tried," Obi-Wan responds. "Being why I came in here."

They sit in silence, both tensing briefly when the ship drops out of hyperspace just a little ways from Stewjon. Anakin flies toward the planet, surprised to find he recognizes the planet. He'd seen it a few times when he went to others in the system, seen the dark blues and dark greens along with the white patches in various places along the surface. Anakin hopes it's ice, because he doubts he could fly successfully through such opaque clouds.

The ship's comm comes to life as a tinny voice barks out. _"Republic cruiser, identify yourself and state your business."_

"Well, they certainly are a friendly bunch," Anakin mutters under his breath prior to raising his voice. "My companion and I are Jedi knights sent from Coruscant on peaceful purposes."

Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Anakin, because _that_ will satisfy them," he murmurs.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," the knight waves his friend off.

_"Genders?" _

"What?" Anakin quietly asks so the other person on the comm can't hear. "Uh, both male."

_"… Were you two dropped on your heads as children?" _The woman on the other side sounds amused, and it dawns on the two Jedi then that the Council likely should have sent women instead.

"Are you saying my mom was incompetent?" Anakin snaps, offended.

_"Keep your shirt on, Jedi brat. You're cleared for landing."_

Anakin leans back and crosses his arms, cursing in Huttese about the woman.

_Insulting a man's mother is the worst thing one can do, Padawan._ Qui-Gon's voice echoes from Obi-Wan's memories, causing a small smile to slip from his placid façade.

Once the ship is docked on a landing platform in the middle of tall coniferous trees, the younger knight casts a glance at his closest friend. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Casting a glare at Anakin, Obi-Wan stands and pulls on his cloak, tugging it over him to shield his stomach where it has already begun to round out. "I don't want to do it, but I don't have a choice. Therefore, I'm going to suffer through it until we return to Coruscant. Come on."

Anakin pulls on his own cloak, shaking his head and letting his now shaggy hair place itself on his head before he follows Obi-Wan down the ramp.

The people to greet them are three women and two men. The men are both taller than the women, but they have their heads down and are dressed in dark blue tunics and pants with brown boots. The women are dressed similarly, but their clothes are not ragged and they have on jewelry. "Greetings, Jedi. I am Prime Minister Jade Tahlee. This is President Dela Tolod and Vice President Simone Arlos."

Obi-Wan and Anakin bow respectfully, taking note how the two men are not introduced. "Greetings, I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. This is my fellow Knight, Anakin Skywalker."

The two presidents exchange wary glances with each other while the prime minister raises an eyebrow. "Obi-Wan Kenobi? That is not a name any of us have heard in a long time. Come." She turns on her heel and walks back down the steel grate pathway, her entourage following her closely. The two Jedi follow, observing the forest floor many feet below through the grating.

The path leads to a grey permacrete building, after walking a long way with towering trees on either side of them, shielding the rest of their surroundings with the thick branches. Both men step inside and four guards immediately step up, two on each side of the Jedi. Obi-Wan sends a calming pulse toward Anakin through the Force, saying nothing as he continues to follow the officials into a conference room.

There is a long table made of rich brown and tan wood, dark spots adorning it naturally and the surface polished so much that Anakin can see his reflection when he looks down. The chairs are made of the same wood but padded with dark blue cushions. It is so much different from Coruscant.

"So you have peaceful business here," the prime minister begins, standing at the head of the table with both presidents sitting on either side of the table, in the chairs closest to the head. "Information for your Archives, I presume?"

"Merely reference for our Healers," Obi-Wan responds politely.

"We have told you Jedi before—it is none of your business what our physiology is like," President Tolod snaps, glaring daggers at Obi-Wan and Anakin.

_Definitely friendly,_ Anakin thinks. "It is our business if one of our own has their health at risk," he growls back, angrily rising from his chair. He ignores the guards' staffs aimed directly at his head as his simmering anger threatens to boil over. How dare they refuse to give out information? Obi-Wan's life might go out like a candle because of his condition, for all the Jedi know at the moment.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan murmurs, grasping his friend's gloved forearm while his eyes command the knight to 'sit the kriff down before Obi-Wan hits him in the throat'. Anakin knows the look well since he and several others have been on the receiving end of it for years.

"Put your boy on a leash, Master Jedi," Prime Minister Tahlee orders, sending an irritated gaze to Anakin. President Arlos looks extremely amused with the turn of events, a small smirk playing across her elfin face.

Sitting back down, desperately hoping his face isn't as red as it feels, Anakin resumes his formerly unthreatening position in the chair while he internally grumbles.

"Considering you, Master Kenobi, are the only person to leave Stewjon in over a hundred years, then I can safely assume you are the one who needs information," Tahlee says in a similarly polite tone as Obi-Wan's.

Both Jedi realize every last person in the room is taking note of how Obi-Wan reacts, and are relieved when the Stewjonians seem satisfied once Obi-Wan nods.

Tahlee considers the shorter, redheaded man for a moment before summoning one of the men from the corner of the room. "Tell my secretary to contact Chief Kenobi at the police station in the western sector of this continent. I will speak with her shortly."

* * *

Anakin and Obi-Wan sit quietly in the lobby of the government building, supposedly waiting for an 'Owen Kenobi' to fetch them. Their suitcases sit in front of the chair on Anakin's left, Obi-Wan sitting in the chair to Anakin's right. It began to rain about an hour ago, the droplets spattering the glass doors, which is the only access to the outside because of the lack of windows. Every once in a while, the woman at the front desk glances up at the two men over the rims of her rectangle spectacles. Her face is youthful—she can't be more than twenty-five—and her hair is black with blue streaks, perfectly straight and past her shoulders. Her eyes are narrower than the Prime Minster's, similar to President Arlos's, though her skin is lighter than the president's caramel tone. The same glossy black color to her hair, though, Anakin thinks.

"I'm assuming there are only humans here, Master?" Anakin inquires in a low voice, waking Obi-Wan from his dozing.

"Yes, only a human subspecies."

"The races vary, it seems. President Arlos and the secretary are both different from the prime minister, President Tolod, and the two men we saw. I couldn't see the guards' faces thou-" Anakin grimaces when Obi-Wan smacks him with light speed, keeping it quick so as not to draw attention.

"Don't be rude, Pad- Anakin." Obi-Wan bites off the former honorific, reminding himself that Anakin is a 'big boy' now, no longer an apprentice.

"I _wasn't_," Anakin hisses under his breath. "You think I'd be racist when I'm surrounded by people everyday who are either not white or not even human at all? Wish you'd have more faith in me."

There is no time for Obi-Wan to answer, as a man steps into the lobby out of the rain. He is wearing an olive green parka lined with fur at the edge of the hood and denim pants with shin-high dark brown hiking boots. The secretary looks up from her desk long enough to gesture in the Jedi's direction, and the man pulls off his black gloves as he strides over. He is not timid like the other men seen before now on this planet, though Obi-Wan suspects it is unusual for a man here to have any bold characteristics.

"Hello," the man greets. Anakin startles to see the familiar copper hair and the calm sea colored eyes, though the hair is shorter and there isn't any facial hair. "You're the Jedi?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replies, standing from his seat in time with Anakin.

"Let's go then. We have to get back to the house before dark."

* * *

Anakin is forced to sit in the back of the groundcar with the suitcases while Obi-Wan sits in front with the man who introduced himself as Owen. Neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan is used to such an uncivilized thing with tires, both used to getting around by speeder through Coruscant. It's certainly a new experience.

The road is black asphalt with yellow lines dividing it in two, winding along the mountainsides and through the semi-flat land. Forest is seen for miles, sometimes a creek or a rushing river with boulders and rocks scattered around.

"What was that?" Anakin asks when they pass by a small clearing, a big brown hooved creature with weird horns being the thing he's curious about.

"A moose," Owen answers, uninterested. The rain has been left far behind now that they are nearing the western coast of the continent, traded for cool air. The mountains are becoming smaller, but hardly less imposing.

The sun is setting, painting reds and purples, oranges, yellows, and pinks across the sky by the time Owen turns onto a gravel drive, up to a large house made of logs. Anakin has seen a few small log 'cabins' before, but this is no mere cabin. This is a mansion. There are transparisteel walls along with the wood, the front of the mansion set on large wooden pillars and the back set onto the mountainside. It's a sight not often seen by the two Jedi.

Anakin recalls when they'd driven past the ocean; dark blue and white waves crashing onto dark cliffs and jagged rocks or onto sandy white beaches spotted with driftwood. It had looked endless, mesmerizing Anakin. No matter how many times he saw that much water, he would never get used to it, the little boy inside insisting there can't possibly be so much water in once place.

Owen leads them into the house—er, mansion—after they climb a few steps, having parked on the side of the house rather than in front. Upon stepping inside, it is surprisingly cozy, if not a bit outdated. There's brown shag carpet and wood paneling—not logs, paneling. There's a green couch that Anakin can hardly believe is allowed to exist sitting in the living room, with a wooden coffee table in front that resembles the conference room table back in the government building.

"Mom won't be home for a while," Owen tells them as he leads them up the stairs—the railing being the same as the coffee table—and into the second floor. It's an open hallway at first so the living room is still visible below, but a wall soon covers the open area up as they walk further into the house. The doors are primitive, with knobs to turn—they'll have to get used to that—and doors that swing open. Owen gestures into one room for Anakin and then leads them to another room across the hall for Obi-Wan. "They each have their own refresher. You saw where the kitchen is. I think that's about it."

They politely thank Owen and he leaves them hurriedly, seeming relieved to do so. Anakin flops onto his back on Obi-Wan's bed, noting the quilt with a moose, a white bear, trees, glaciers, fish, rivers, a brown bear, and some kind of bird with a weird orange and yellow beak. "So Stewjon is a strange planet."

"Yes… it's rather-"

"Primitive?"

Obi-Wan nods in agreement as he sits next to Anakin, glancing down at the boy. "Quite primitive. I haven't seen this technology with my own eyes—the rest of the Republic has had more advanced technology years before my birth."

"It's the result of withdrawing from the Republic," Anakin replies, shrugging. "Their loss, I guess." He sits up and glances at Obi-Wan's stomach, which is more swelled than when Anakin had first seen him after Jabiim. "How are you feeling?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Obi-Wan thinks as he tentatively presses the pads of his fingers to his stomach through his tunics before answering. "I haven't been nauseated for the past few days. I think that's a good sign."

"Definitely a good sign," Anakin replies as he wraps an arm around Obi-Wan's chest and pulls him backward onto the bed and the nature-centric quilt.

"Mmf, Anakin, this is not the time for cuddling. You're too old for this anyway," Obi-Wan complains as his former padawan nuzzles his face into the crook of Obi-Wan's neck, throwing a leg over the older man's own legs.

"Never too old for a snuggle, Master."

"You exhaust me."


End file.
